


Chaotic Noise

by LolaInSlacks88



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, M/M, Other, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6837835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LolaInSlacks88/pseuds/LolaInSlacks88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo and Izaya are at it again! The whole of Ikebukuro freezes as the two lock horns in a seemingly endless cycle - until Erika flippantly has an idea that leads to even more kinks in the already twisted love story of Ikebukuro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaotic Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my first DRRR!! fic! I'm an avid Shizaya fan and enjoy the challenges their volatile relationship poses in writing for them. I hope you enjoy the fluff, humor, and introspection!

The noise was chaotic. Signs were yanked out of the asphalt, carelessly thrust into the air. A trashcan sailed, its contents drifting to the ground like feathers in the breeze. A vending machine clattered, skipping almost like a stone as it touched ground. The impenetrable plastic remained unscathed, disappointing passers-by who wanted a free candy, like the slant-eyed boy and the smiling girl in the hat. She gripped a manga in her hands, watching in rapt awe as the spectacle endured.  
The man in the bandanna and the long-haired man shook their heads from the front seat as the other two returned without the captive snack goods.  
“Have they ever been in a room without causing unquantifiable collateral damage?” Saburo asked rhetorically, with the tone of exasperation clinging to his words.  
“Dota-chin went to school with them both, ne Dota-Dota?” Erika sighed. “It’s just because they’re too shy and awkward to express their love and they don’t know any other way than to lug things at each other!” Her hands pressed the manga to her chest.  
The slant-eyed boy widened his eyes as he looked at her. “Erika, stop with the yaoi fantasies. You’re gonna give me images in my head I don’t want to think about. How about Izaya’s sisters, hm? Shoujo-ai and incest all in one. The ultimate taboo!” His frown reversed into a creepy smile as his mind wandered.  
“Give me Ruri Hijibe any day,” Saburo muttered to himself. “At least that’s a normal desire.”  
“I don’t give a shit about any of this idol or fandom nonsense,” Kadota spoke frankly. “Don’t any of you have normal relationships? You know, so you’re not fantasizing about other people who live their own lives? Think what they’d say if they knew you were thinking this shit!”  
“Ruri’s used to it,” Saburo protested, hands gripping the steering wheel as he tried to coast past the scene of carnage. Izaya was scaling a wall, a gleeful smile on his face and a knife in his hand.  
“Yeah, and I think Izaya’s little sisters really are that close,” Walker insisted. He rubbed his hands together. “At least I know they kiss. They probably get into tickle-fights, too.”  
“Yeah? And Shizu and Izayan are fighting too,” Erika pointed to them, “I mean, that’s a form of tickling, right? They’re just trying to reach out and touch one another!”  
Kadota shook his head, watching through the window as a yield sign soared like a kite. “That’s almost touching, Erika. They’re definitely both misfits. Shizuo only had Tom in middle school, and he was kinda friendly with me and Kishitani. Well, if Shizuo can be considered friendly. And Izaya was too interested in manipulating people to connect with them.”  
“The man who loves people yet no one loves him. it’s a well-known fact,” Walker demurred. “And the passionate man who craves a peaceful life, but is scared he’ll be alone because of his unwieldy temper.” He narrowed his eyes at Erika. “You know, I’m not into yaoi, but you may be able to convert me.”  
Erika gasped. “Walker, you mean I won’t be alone in my fantasies?” She rolled down the rear window and thrust her head out amidst Saburo and Kadota’s cries of protest and astonishment.  
“Hey, Izayan, Shizu!” she called. Izaya, attentive as always, looked her way. Shizuo barreled towards him, but Izaya deftly dodged him and walked towards Erika and the van.  
“Move move move!” Kadota urged to Saburo. “Where Izaya goes, Shizuo will follow!”  
“Wait!” Erika insisted. “Izayan, are you listening?”  
Izaya’s ever-present smile widened. “I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken before, Miss Karisawa. This is intriguing. Tearing yourself away from that false world to enter the real one?”  
“Izayan, did it ever occur to you that you provoke Shizu because you want his attention?”  
Izaya’s smile faltered, but then it grew even larger than it had before. “What’s that? You spend much time thinking about the state of Shizu and I’s relationship?”  
The familiar call of “Izaaaaayaaaa!” rang out. Saburo’s foot tensed on the brake, ready to move to the accelerator.  
“If he caught you, what would he do?” Erika asked.  
Izaya glanced back. “Oh, kill me, I imagine,” he said with a sigh and a hint of a smile.  
“What if he didn’t? Shizu wants a peaceful life. Maybe if you’re peaceful with him, he won’t know what to do.”  
Izaya laughed. “How amusing! I’d never considered that a beast like him might release me. But maybe you’re right. After all, he’s the only human I can’t predict.”  
Then, surprising all of them, Izaya held up his hands and faced the rampaging blond bartender. “Hey, Shizu, I give up. Do what you will.”  
All of Ikebukuro froze around them. Erika’s jaw dropped. She suddenly felt like a mangaka whose story was coming to life. She hoped for a passionate embrace and a realization that the two would share: that their immense animosity was just veiled attraction. Of course, this was the opposite of likely.  
Yumasaki was curious to see what would happen. He didn’t think Shizuo would really kill Izaya. Just hit him really hard and send him into the sky like a gleaming light.  
Saburo and Kadota were convinced they’d be calling the police to report a murder.  
Shizuo froze mid-stride, holding a small tree in his arms like an oversized baseball bat. “Huh? What’re you up to, flea?”  
“Do with me what you like. I won’t provoke you anymore.” Izaya held his hands up, fearful for his personal safety but enthralled by this social experiment. His heart pounded in his chest but he didn’t break a sweat.  
Shizuo stared at him like a dumb dog waiting for a command from its owner. “Say what? You mean you’ll leave me alone today, or forever?”  
Izaya shrugged. “I don’t know that yet. I just want to see what you’ll do right now.”  
Shizuo dropped the tree. Nearby, the three high-schoolers who were reunited stood staring. The bespectacled girl held her hands to her mouth in anticipation. The brown-haired boy was exclaiming, “Oh, man, what is this?” over and over. And the placid boy in the middle was awkwardly tugging on his collar with one hand while the other fingered a cell phone.  
Shizuo stalked towards Izaya. It was completely silent, like a standoff in a western film. His fist were clenched, and a vein throbbed in his temple.  
“You WANT to die, flea? You want it fast and hard, or slow and painful?”  
Erika sputtered into laughter. She knew Shizuo was too daft to realize his entendre, but it was too appropriate in her mind.  
“I don’t want it at all,” Izaya denied. “Just give me what you have to give, Shizu.”  
Shizuo’s anger was starting to slip into confusion. This had never happened before. The small, slender man who stood before him was just as annoying as ever, and even though he wasn’t provoking Shizuo like usual, Shizuo still found himself annoyed.  
“The sight of you makes me sick,” he blurted, unsure of how to express this.  
“Am I really that displeasing? Most women find me quite attractive.” Izaya folded his arms and looked up at the blond, contemplating that bad dye-job and the tacky bartender suit he wore.  
“There’s no accounting for bad taste,” Shizuo spat back. He towered over Izaya and stared down at him. Erika saw Izaya’s Adam’s apple bob. He was scared, she realized. He’d never seemed more human. It was almost endearing.  
Shizuo clenched his fists and stared at them. “You know, what I’d do to you in private and here in front of everyone are entirely different things.”  
“Hahahaha!” Erika was unable to restrain her laughter. Yumasaki covered her mouth as Shizuo’s eyes swiveled to her.  
“Annoying,” was all he had to say.  
“So you’re saying you’re scared of what people might think? Of your violent tendencies?” Izaya queried. “You know, I’ve never been around you when you’ve been in a calm enough state to actually carry a conversation with. Tell me, Shizu, are you scared to be alone? That no one will love you because they’re all terrified of you?”  
“Shut up, or I’ll shut your mouth for you.” Shizuo lifted a fist, his lilac glasses slipping down his nose.  
“You know, you really scare me too,” Izaya admitted. “Because right now, I don’t know what you’re gonna do. I’m just praying to a non-existent God that you don’t kill me.”  
Shizuo’s eye twitched. “I’m tired of this. Shut your mouth already.” And he decked Izaya Orihara squarely in the jaw. Luckily, for Izaya, the blow was hard enough to knock him out but gentle enough to keep all of his teeth intact.  
The black rider had been returning home when she’d encountered all of the frozen cars and pedestrians. She and Shooter had slowed to take in the scene when she heard the sounds of conversation. To her surprise, she’d seen two mortal enemies who were always running and fighting actually standing and having a conversation. She wondered briefly if she was having a dream. But why would her mind think up such things?  
She’d texted Shinra, [Be ready to take Izaya in. He’s toe to toe with Shizuo right now.]  
And not unwisely. The next second, she’d heard Shizuo’s fist crack Izaya’s jaw. She looked up, finger frozen after hitting send, and saw the smaller man crumple to the ground. She rushed over to Shizuo.  
[Shizuo, what happened?] She typed.  
“Dunno,” Shizuo said, looking down at the fallen man. “He looks pathetic like that. Even worse than normal.”  
[Take him to Shinra], she urged. [He could choke on his teeth or blood!]  
“Do you care what happens to that filth?” Shizuo asked her. He slid his hands in his pockets.  
[Not really, but I don’t want you to be put away for murder, Shizuo! Think about it!]  
“Hn. Maybe that was his plan after all.” Shizuo lifted a foot to kick him, but even Shizuo wouldn’t kick an unconscious man when he was down. He bent down and lifted the limp body easily.  
Celty directed Shooter to shift into a carriage. The bike wouldn’t fit all three of them. And so the foursome in the van and the trio on the sidewalk watched Shizuo carry Izaya into a carriage made of shadow and the headless rider lead them away by the reins of her headless horse.  
“Woah,” Erika murmured, “it’s like some kinda dark spin on Cinderella.”  
Kadota sniffed. “Yeah, if the ball was a fight and the glass slipper was a deck to the face.”  
“Still, I’m surprised he didn’t kill Izaya,” Walker mused. They silently watched the shadow carriage roll away. “Maybe he does repress his feelings, or show them the only way he knows how.”  
“Just stop,” Kadota warned. But in his mind, he thought back to all of the times Izaya deliberately provoked Shizuo, like little boys in elementary school pulling the hair of the girl they liked. He couldn’t see it from Shizuo, but if he stretched his mind enough, he could see Izaya wanting Shizuo’s attention. Sure, Izaya was a lonely guy, but you’d think he’d do everything he could to avoid someone he hated.  
Of course, maybe in Izaya’s warped mind, hate was love and he didn’t even know it.  
“Damn it, Erika!” Kadota exclaimed after a long silence.  
The girl with the manga and the fantasies of boys in love had no idea what she’d done.

***

Shinra was so stunned by the sight of Shizuo Heiwajima carrying Izaya Orihara’s lifeless body that even he didn’t speak, for once mimicking his shadowy lover.  
“Where do I put him?” Shizuo asked, eager to remove the sensation of Izaya’s body from his arms.  
“Is he alive?” Shinra ran up to the two and held a finger under Izaya’s nose. Shinra exhaled when the man blew hot air onto his finger. “Thank God, I never really thought you’d do it!”  
Shizuo grunted. “I’ll do you in if you don’t tell me where to put him down.”  
“Uh, h-here,” Shinra led him back to his emergency room, where he kept a medical bed and supplies. He worked quickly to set it up while Shizuo dumped Izaya onto the bed. Izaya stirred, blood pooling from his mouth.  
Celty was surprised by the sympathy she felt for the information broker. She hated him sometimes, mostly because of his claims to love humans despite all of the terrible things he did to them. Celty had at one point thought he might not be all that bad, but then, as always, he did something to tip him back onto her bad side.  
“Can I go now?” Shizuo asked, but a knock echoed at the front door.  
Celty had been looking forward to relaxing on the patio with Shinra but now realized that her dreams of relaxation were over. She went to the door and shuddered as she saw who was at it.  
“Who is it?” Shinra called.  
Celty slumped in defeat and opened the door. Shingen Kishitani and his young, dumb, American wife entered. They blathered on about something or other, but Celty A. Tuned them out, and B. Was so confused by Emilia’s way of speaking that she couldn’t discern what was being said.  
Shinra popped out, fortunately, a blood-stained rag in his hand. “Dad, what’s going on? I’m kind of busy here.”  
“We need you and Celty straight away!” Shingen’s speech was muffled through his gas mask. Celty wondered if he even had a face under there, and she shuddered as she pictured a smiling skull, or worse, a dark void not unlike herself.  
“I’m busy with a patient,” Shinra insisted. At this point, Shizuo stepped into the room.  
“Heiwajima?” Shingen asked. “He looks as stoic as always.” ‘Stoic’ was slang for ‘grouchy.’  
Emilia craned her head around Shingen. “Ooh, scary! Tall and impassive, the blond man. Do lots of Japanese their hair is changed?”  
Celty shook her head, wishing the woman would work her way around the Japanese language.  
“The way you talk pisses me off,” Shizuo said point-blank, not a man of many words or much tact. Shinra laughed nervously, cornered in a room filled with many tense relationships: His lover who hated his father and step-mother, and his two good friends who were also bitter enemies. He was still confused about what had happened between Izaya and Shizuo.  
He supposed he was to blame for it all. Introducing the two, at least. He should’ve known it would’ve been like oil and water, the boy who prickled at everything and the boy who enjoyed needling. But, deep down, he’d had a hope they would get along, that they’d be a group of friends or possibly even friends to each other. Both were lonely, Shinra knew, which was why he befriended both. An easygoing boy, he wanted to be with Celty and fix people and problems. But he’d only made things worse for Izaya and Shizuo, and consequently all of Ikebukuro.  
Maybe it was up to him to fix it. Either this would end in disaster and he’d come back to a destroyed apartment and no trace of Izaya, or … well, he didn’t know what he hoped for.  
“Okay, Dad, Celty and I will come over straight away.”  
Shingen was just as surprised by this as Celty was. “Really?”  
“Sure.” He looked at Shizuo, trying to stand tall and not to show fear. “Shizuo, can you look after Izaya?”  
Shizuo and Celty seemed to think this was an equally bad idea. She waved her arms across each other in a “NO!” symbol while Shizuo broke his cigarette in two.  
“What did you say?”  
“Well, you hurt him, so it’s your responsibility to look after him while I’m gone. He’s out cold, so all you have to do is make sure he doesn’t choke while he’s sleeping. I gave him some pain-killers, so if he does wake up he’ll be woozy. He won’t be able to hurt you, if he can even talk.”  
“So I have to sit and stare at him?”  
Celty pictured a silent Shizuo staring at a sleeping, prone Izaya, with murder on his mind. This would be the ultimate test of patience for Shizuo. She prayed silently.  
Please let there be an apartment when I come back. Or at least a room with a bed. And if Izaya’s dead, please let him be in one piece.  
“Basically.”  
“What if he pukes or somethin’?”  
“If he stops breathing, give him mouth-to-mouth-” Shinra stopped when Shizuo’s face made it very clear there would be no mouth-to-mouth. “Give him chest compressions. Gently, or you’ll break his sternum.”  
“Fine.”  
“And if he vomits, turn him over and press your palm to his back as if he’s choking. But hopefully he’ll just sleep.”  
“Hopefully.” Shizuo looked back at the room with a disdainful look in his eye.  
Celty looked at Shinra, who had the ability to read her without her PDA. What the HELL are you doing?  
He smiled, trying to reassure her-and himself. “Shizuo, keep your phone close. Call me if you need to. I’ll let you know when we’re returning. Help yourself to the fridge.”  
He started to follow his parents out, but Celty quickly typed a message for Shizuo. [Please please please don’t destroy the apartment. If you have to kill him, take him outside first. But try not to kill him, too. Just think of him as a baby you’re watching while he takes a little nap, okay?]  
“I hate babies almost as much as I hate him,” Shizuo said, which less than reassured Celty. She slumped in defeat, then typed a final message.  
[Just do it for me, okay? Even if you’re mad at Shinra. I don’t know what he’s doing, but he seems to have some kind of goal in mind. Just think happy thoughts.]  
“Killing Izaya would make me pretty happy,” Shizuo said, but part of him was angry about the situation and he wasn’t sure he meant it. Still, Celty calmed him, and he was pretty sure he could avoid killing the flea for her sake. “But I won’t do it here.”  
Celty typed out a reply. [Thank you. I’m really sorry about this. Trust me. I wanted to relax today, too.]  
Shizuo managed a small smile. “Still don’t know what you see in Shinra, but hey, as long as he makes you happy.” He envied their easy bond. In all of Ikebukuro, Celty and Shinra had the most normal relationship. He didn’t love Celty in the same way as Shinra, but he knew Shinra was damn lucky to have her. In a way, she was the most normal person in town.  
She was a damn good friend. And for her, he’d avoid killing the flea here.  
He watched the quartet walk out, realizing with the sound of the door shutting that he was locked in an apartment with the last person in Ikebukuro he wanted to be with. In all of the world, really.  
“I need a cigarette,” he muttered, sitting on the couch. He wanted to avoid looking at Izaya. Even a glance at him made Shizuo throb with a red-hot anger. Izaya’s best protection was to be in a room away from Shizuo.  
As soon as he sat and lit the cigarette, he heard a cough. His hair stood on end like a dog spotting a rabbit. He knew Izaya’s every sound, and even his smell. Izaya wore cologne, the same since high-school, that he thought smelled good but Shizuo thought stank. Of course, it was because he now associated it with Izaya. He hated fur-lined coats and black hair, and butterfly knives and cheap cologne. He also hated his own phone because Izaya had his number and would call to antagonize him.  
He’d once refused to add Izaya into his address book, but because he continually forgot Izaya’s number, he always picked up because he thought it was for work. Tom told him to add it in just so he knew to avoid it, and that there were apps to block it, but Shizuo was too lazy to do this. Tom did it for him, yet Izaya would find new numbers and Shizuo would always pick up. Izaya was clever and Shizuo was dense, this was well known even to Shizuo himself. Another thing he hated.  
Izaya coughed again. Shizuo sighed and snuffed out the cigarette. Bothersome flea.  
He wanted to turn on the TV to drown him out, but the paranoia of hearing that cough was too overwhelming. Shizuo hated reading, so he avoided the books that lined Shinra and Celty’s shelves. They were mostly medical and folklore, but a few amused him. Celty seemed to have a fascination with aliens. He noted there were also a lot of Quentin Tarantino films on the DVD shelf. He knew these films because of Kasuka.  
He heard Izaya groan in the room. Shizuo himself groaned, agitated that he felt obligated to check in on him. He stomped over and peeked in the doorway. Izaya had curled into a fetal position on his side. Shizuo had a hard time picturing him younger; he just assumed he’d always been the way he was.  
He was about to walk away when Izaya mumbled out, “Shizu, that hurt.”  
Shizuo froze. His hand gripped the doorway so tightly a small crack formed in the wood. He released it, flashing back to Celty’s texts.  
Shizuo was on the edge of preparing himself for a fight, verbal or otherwise. Yet Izaya seemed to remain asleep. Sleep-talking, Shizuo supposed. He must’ve been thinking of the knockout punch Shizuo had delivered.  
“What were you thinking?” he muttered aloud. “Wanted a broken jaw, did you?”  
Shinra hadn’t had to wire it shut. Shizuo had held back. He’d been annoyed at Izaya and wanted him to stop talking. Even he’d been surprised by his own restraint.  
“Nn,” Izaya muttered, hugging himself about the mid-section. “Cold.”  
Shizuo snickered. “Yeah? Maybe it’ll wake you up.” His body tightened; he didn’t want this. Izaya waking up would trigger him. He had to honor his promise to Celty.  
He ran in search of a blanket to fan out atop Izaya. Eventually he happened on one that was so soft and fluffy he held it to himself and stroked it. Shizuo wasn’t in need of comfort; he was content with a roof over his head and a futon to sleep on. But this blanket was like stroking Kasuka’s cute if annoying little cat.  
He shook it out and threw it atop Izaya. It billowed and Izaya grabbed at it, snuggling into it like that damned adorable cat. “Mm, thank you.”  
Shizuo’s eyebrow quirked. Was he waking up?  
The groggy information broker had a smile on his face, but it was a gentle, content smile. It didn’t aggravate Shizuo as much as the cocky smirk he usually displayed.  
“Smoking is bad for you.” Izaya spoke, but his eyes remained shut. Shizuo flinched, but his feet were frozen in place. He was programmed to defend himself when any sign of Izaya alerted him. Was the broker up to something? Had this been his plan all along?  
“You waking up, flea? Want some more?”  
Izaya’s only reply was to turn onto his other side. Half of the blanket slid off and he sighed, disappointed. Shizuo dutifully returned it to him, echoes of caring for a sick Kasuka in his mind.  
As he tucked the blanket in, a hand reached up to his. Shizuo froze, waiting for the trigger to attack. But there was only a gentle squeeze before the hand moved away. “Thank you.”  
Shizuo wondered if Izaya was awake, or if he even knew it was Shizuo in the room. That stuff Shinra doped his patients up with was pretty potent. Even Shizuo, who tolerated it better than most, had thought he’d seen stars in the ceiling once.  
Shizuo backed away and sat in the chair near the bed. He laced his fingers and rested them on his jittery knees.  
Chill it out, man. For Celty’s sake. The flea won’t hurt you. He’s out of it. Sleep-talking. You gotta learn to control yourself. Can’t attack a sleeping, injured man.  
Even him.  
Man, I hate him even when he’s like this.  
Actually, when don’t I hate him?  
The rogue blanket slid down again, aided by gravity. Izaya’s coat was draped over the edge of the bed, and his shirt tugged up to reveal his back and one hip. He wore pants with an unusually low waistline for a man.  
Shizuo was close enough to see his ivory skin prickle. He sighed and returned the damned blanket to its place over Izaya. Izaya chortled and murmured, “Fluffy.”  
Shizuo scratched his head. “What the hell, man?”  
He slumped back into his seat, thinking after a while that he ought to grab a book after all. Or maybe a magazine from the john, if there was one. Anything to keep his eyes off the flea.  
He wandered into the bathroom, which was immaculately clean. In a rack by the toilet was a medical magazine, and one on supernatural phenomenon. Shizuo smirked when the address revealed it was Celty’s subscription. Somehow it amused him even more that a dullahan had magazine subscriptions.  
When he returned to read it, he was irked: the blanket had fallen entirely to the floor and Izaya was curled up shivering again.  
“Damn it, Izaya, you’re annoying even when you’re unconscious!” Shizuo spat as he stooped to retrieve the blanket. He tossed it atop Izaya and stomped to the chair, where he flopped with an exasperated sigh. He flipped through the magazine, which had been dog-eared at several pages.  
“Shizu, why’re you so mean?” Izaya muttered. “I’m so cold and you’re so cold too.”  
Shizuo’s fingers clenched the pages of the magazine. “Izaya, are you awake? ‘Cuz I think you’re just fucking with me.”  
Izaya turned over on his other side and smiled sleepily, but his eyes remained shut. Shizuo didn’t think he looked angelic at all, but he definitely didn’t agitate Shizuo as much as usual like this.  
“No, no fucking, Shizu.” He giggled, then he was silent again.  
Shizuo decided he needed some noise to drown out Izaya’s sleep babble. He went in search of a radio or CD player. He found a remote, but it didn’t seem to turn anything in the living room on – until Shizuo felt a cool breeze on his face from the fan. Agitated, he tossed it to the couch before he broke the power button.  
He walked up and hit the power button to what he assumed was the radio. It blared on at what must have been close to maximum volume. He grit his teeth and covered his ears before exclaiming, “Shit shit shit!” and lowering the volume.  
He turned around and saw Izaya standing in the doorway, groggily rubbing his eyes. In the other hand he clutched the blanket. He looked like a helpless child.  
“Hey, Shizu, what’s all the noise?”  
He was awake enough and he still recognized Shizuo, but he seemed fearless. Shizuo stared at him, not sure what to do. “Um, the radio. It was too quiet.”  
“Sounded too loud to me,” Izaya retorted without the hint of a smile. Shizuo balled a fist.  
“I’ll turn it off.”  
Izaya wobbled. Instinctively, Shizuo went to catch him. He was surprisingly light, and his skin was warm. Shizuo almost felt like he was holding a child or a woman, Izaya was so small and fine-boned.  
Izaya clutched Shizuo’s vest. “Sorry, Shizu. Guess I’m still pretty tired.”  
Shizuo felt like he was looking at a different person. This Izaya wasn’t trying to piss him off. He was vulnerable. But maybe there was a knife hidden in that blanket. Shizuo remained on edge.  
“Stop trying to manipulate me. I’m not as stupid as you think.”  
“You’re never what I think,” Izaya said, his lids fluttering over his eyes. “Where am I? This isn’t your place.”  
Shizuo was alarmed he knew what his apartment was like. If he wanted him dead, it would surely be easy enough to send someone after him, then. But that was no fun for Izaya, and he knew anyone would have a hard time killing Shizuo.  
“Shinra and Celty’s. She took you here after I knocked you out.”  
“You came too?”  
“Celty guilt-tripped me.”  
Izaya snickered. “She’s such a mother. Can you help me to the bed?”  
Shizuo put an arm around Izaya’s mid-section and pulled one of Izaya’s around his neck. Their height difference made this a bit of a stretch, but he managed to walk Izaya back over to the bed.  
Izaya sat on the edge and looked like he was about to nod off right there. “You know, when you’re not trying to kill me, you’re not such a monster.”  
“Keep talking and that’ll change.”  
“Ah, there’s the Shizu I know.” Izaya wobbled back and Shizuo closed the distance before he toppled off of the bed. He grabbed him by the shoulders and wondered what to do with him. He seemed so delicate in this condition.  
“Does it hurt?”  
“Hm?”  
“Your jaw.”  
Izaya shook his head. “It will later. But I feel pretty good right now. You could do whatever you wanted to me and I wouldn’t feel it.”  
This seemed like some sort of invitation to Shizuo, but he didn’t understand the motivation.  
“Just go back to sleep. Shinra and Celty’ll be back soon.”  
“It’s nice that you pay attention to me. In a nice way.” Izaya gripped Shizuo’s arms. “It’s nice …”  
Shizuo was confused by the repetitive use of ‘nice’, but Izaya was nodding off again so he guided him down and pushed the pillow under his head.  
“Hurry up and get better so I don’t feel bad about wanting to kill you.”  
“Do you really want to? If I leave you alone?” Izaya shut his eyes but kept on talking.  
“If you left Bukuro I would leave you alone.”  
“You wouldn’t chase me down?”  
“No. I just want you out of here.”  
Izaya sighed. “You really hate me. Don’t you know that’s why I keep pestering you? Because I know if I leave you alone you’ll forget all about me.”  
“What?” Shizuo snapped. “What the fuck do you want from me, then? Leave me alone and I leave you alone. Wouldn’t it be nice to never think about each other again?”  
“Deep thoughts, Shizu …” Izaya was starting to drift away again. Shizuo was relieved. “I hate that I don’t understand you. That everyone loves you and you don’t even know it. You don’t even try to make them love you. You try to chase them away.”  
“Shut up and go back to sleep, Izaya.” Shizuo sat down and flipped open the magazine forcefully. Unfortunately, it tore. He’d have to apologize to Celty and buy her a new one.  
“Okay.” Izaya’s chest was rising more slowly. He was falling asleep again, thank goodness. “I hate you, Shizu.”  
“Feeling’s mutual.” Shizuo’s face heated, but he tried to calm himself. Izaya was injured and exhausted and high. He was rambling. Shizuo wanted to sleep too, he realized. So he put the magazine over his face and fell asleep.  
***  
When Izaya came to, he was surprised to see Shizuo still sitting there, a magazine over his snoring face. In his pocket was a glowing, vibrating phone. How did Shizuo not notice?  
Izaya crept out of the bed and carefully slipped the phone from Shizuo, holding his breath. Shizuo stopped snoring, but Izaya already had the phone and had silenced it. The snoring resumed.  
Izaya saw the missed call and texts. He smiled.  
One missed call: Celty Sturluson  
He read the texts and his smile widened.  
[1/2 Shizuo, just checking in. Shingen dragged us into some crazy medical experiments. He’s got me locked in here with that idiot wife of his. 2/2 It’s so creepy how she likes to grope me. Shinra’s with Shingen, but I don’t know what they’re up to. I think the Yakuza’s involved somehow. Text or call me!]  
Then:  
[Shizuo, are you okay? How is Izaya? Do I still have an apartment? Text back, please!]  
And finally:  
[Shizuo! Hey! Please, please text back! You’d better be asleep like Izaya. I really hate this, but we’re stuck here overnight. I’m freaking out right now! I’ll explain later. Please don’t hurt anyone.]  
Overnight? Izaya thought. I could kill him now and dispose of the body. But they’d know I did it. Unless I made it look like I died in a fire. Or we both went missing.  
Hell, who am I kidding? He’s unkillable. I tried to drop a crane on him and that stupid Russian pushed him out of the way. Interfering in our relationship, pushy bitch. Then shooting me, all for Shizu … he wouldn’t kill me after all. He’s not really a monster. He’s human, and I love humans.  
But I don’t love him.  
Memories floated in Izaya’s mind as he texted a reply to Celty.  
[Celty, everything is fine. Izaya is still asleep and I took a nap. Sorry. I did destroy one of your magazines. I’ll pay for it. Also, I can’t figure out how to work your stereo. Later. S.]  
He’d searched earlier texts in Shizuo’s phone in order to replicate his writing style and signature. He was very brief except when he wrote Celty, his bff. And sometimes Tom Tanaka. Otherwise, Izaya was surprised to see he hardly even contacted Shinra and Vorona. Also, he found his own numbers saved under, “Flea,” “Dead Man,” and “Asshole.” Classy.  
The information he pried from Shizuo’s phone was that he was about as talkative on the phone as he was in real life. The most contacted person of all was no surprise: Kasuka.  
Izaya typed.  
When the text came back, it surprised Izaya with its immediacy.  
[What? Really? I kind of suspected as much, but I never thought you’d realize it. How do you feel?]  
Izaya wanted to laugh. Kasuka was amusing. He was highly attentive for such an apathetic man.  
Izaya typed a reply, smiling.  
[Well, I guess that doesn’t surprise me either. But I’m surprised you came to realize it on your own. What are you going to do?]  
This reply surprised even Izaya. His finger hovered over the keyboard. He looked up at Shizuo, noticing the magazine had fallen onto his lap.  
He typed: [He’s here with me now, but he’s still asleep. What do you think I should do?]  
[1/3 Let him sleep and talk to him when he wakes up. I think you’d be so much happier to stop fighting. That’s what you tell me you want all of the time, right? Peace. If he’s been antagonizing you all of this time because he wanted your attention, 2/3 giving it to him a different way will either make him leave you alone or make you happy. You know? That said, I think he’s a sociopath. He doesn’t know how to interact with people and neither do you. No offense. Maybe it’s meant to be.]  
[P.S. You’re the cutest couple in all of Ikebukuro. Don’t kill me.]  
Izaya was pleased by this interaction, even though he’d pretended to be Shizuo. Yes, he was lonely. Shizuo was lonely. Neither of them was good with other people, even though Izaya understood them so well. He lived for reactions, and he knew well that by doing what he did he alienated himself.  
My violence is a different kind of violence than Shizuo’s, but I can’t control it any more than he can.  
I just love humans too much.  
Maybe he’s human after all.  
“Shizu,” Izaya said, shaking Shizuo’s knee.  
Shizuo’s glasses slid down his nose and threatened to fall off. Izaya wondered why he wore the tacky things.  
“Hey, did all of that aggression tucker you out?” Izaya asked, shaking his knee again. He thought about how long and lean Shizuo’s legs were and slid his hand up, wondering if this would wake him and how he’d react.  
His hand kept creeping up and eventually it wandered onto a warm inner thigh. Shizuo remained asleep, but Izaya got a reaction. His eyebrows and lips quirked.  
“Damned flea.”  
Izaya’s hand shrank back.  
“Fucking with me.”  
Izaya looked at his hesitant fingers. He thought about how they wrapped around his knife and how often he’d plunged it into Shizuo or sliced his flesh with it. All in an attempt to get a reaction. Just another human, after all. Where had the monster gone? Had he ever been one?  
Was I a monster too?  
Izaya stood up and leaned over, closer to Shizuo. “Wake up, Shizu.”  
Shizuo’s eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. He slept surprisingly deeply. Izaya slid his glasses back up, thinking that Shizuo had long eyelashes for such a brute. In fact, none of him looked strong when he was asleep. His brittle hair, dried by the dye, and eyes that were rendered dormant by lids. His nose was straight, healed from every break it had ever had. His mouth was ordinary, but less harsh without a cigarette perched between his lips. His skin was unblemished and darker than Izaya’s, and his bone structure was longer but not much denser. But to touch his muscles, you felt the strength coiled up in them, and to look into his eyes was like looking at fire.  
What would those muscles do in other circumstances?  
And what were those eyes like when he wasn’t glaring fire?  
His instinct now was to slap Shizuo. The earliest had been to try to bury a dagger into his gut. Old instincts died hard.  
Instead, he tenderly caressed his cheek. Had Shizuo ever known this sort of touch? This was the new experiment.  
Shizuo stirred under the warmth of a hand on his face. His reaction from earlier had only grown. Izaya was fascinated to see this creature react in ways he’d never dreamed of. Suddenly he wasn’t so repulsive.  
“How could I sleep with the stench of that cologne up my nose?” Shizuo asked abruptly, his eyes blinking open and a hand reaching out to snatch Izaya’s.  
For once in his life, Izaya was caught off guard. His jaw dropped, and he realized some of the painkillers were wearing off. It ached.  
“Shizu, why didn’t you wake up earlier?” It hurt to talk and he winced.  
“I woke up when you pawed my leg, creep. You realize I can snap any of your bones within seconds, right? You don’t scare me.”  
“I can tell.” Izaya reached for his jaw with his free hand. “Is it bruised yet?”  
Shizuo looked at him with glittering golden eyes. “Yeah, a little. So why the fuck were you touching me like that?”  
“I just wanted to see what you’d do.” Izaya’s lips curled into a smile. “Has anyone touched you like that?”  
“Why do you want to know?” Shizuo’s face seemed to be locked into a permanent grimace. “I hope you’re not too flattered that you excited me.”  
Izaya chuckled. “Not really. It’s the body’s natural reaction. Even yours. How did it make you feel?”  
“Disgusted that your touch felt nice. But no, no one ever did that before, so of course it would feel nice.” Shizuo’s grimace contorted into something resembling a smile and his grip on Izaya’s wrist loosened. “I always wondered, and I thought maybe you weren’t into it at all, but maybe I’m right: you’re queer and you’re obsessed with me.”  
“I love all humans,” Izaya denied. His smile died. “Even you.”  
Shizuo’s smile retreated as well. “What, I’m a human now? Not a monster?”  
“I had a lot of time to think before I returned to Ikebukuro.” Izaya gestured to his hand. “Will you let go?”  
Shizuo shook his head. “You didn’t. Came back, didn’t you?”  
“Ikebukuro is my city,” Izaya said in a low, sultry tone. “Especially with you, my rival, still in it.”  
Shizuo sighed and blurted out a question that did something Izaya hadn’t expected: it stunned him. “You really must wanna screw me, huh? Screw with me to screw me, right?”  
Izaya wasn’t sure this was completely inaccurate or accurate. His repulsion to Shizuo had been concurrent with attraction, in a way. He could never leave him alone. He could stop trying to kill him, but then how would he keep his attention? This former monster, this fascinating creature, this human that he couldn’t predict or understand.  
“Shizu, I love humans. I know you’re a human, after all, no monster. A monster would have killed me by now. I understand that you want peace. But I wanted you to pay attention to me because I’m lonely. I love everyone but no one loves me back. Don’t you understand?”  
“That’s all you want?” Shizuo asked, surprised. He realized Izaya’s wrist was starting to bruise so he released it. “You don’t know how to interact with people so you piss ‘em off. Man, you must really love me, then.”  
“In a fashion.”  
This admittance surprised both of them equally. Shizuo was realizing that Izaya was human, too. That he was lonely and bitter because despite how much he loved, his love wasn’t understood and reciprocated.  
Izaya realized that Shizuo was, at heart, a human who felt fear-a fear of loneliness like Izaya himself felt. That he thought he was a monster too. Shizuo, for all of his strength, was frightened. And Izaya loved him for all of his vulnerability, for his strength, for the contradictory facets of personality that made him very, very human, more human that anyone he’d ever known.  
They looked at one another, both realizing that they didn’t want to kill someone they understood.  
“Yeah, well, I don’t love you, but I kind of get you now.”  
If Karisawa could see this strange episode of bonding, she’d pass out from disbelief and dream of the physical aftermath.  
Celty would envelop herself in a shadowy ball of denial.  
Shinra would have pointed a finger enthusiastically and said, “I KNEW you two could get along!” Then lower it and say, “Eh, but this well? Hm.”  
Kasuka was wondering how Izaya had interpreted his texts, because despite his best attempts, he knew it wasn’t Shizuo’s style of writing. But he was tired of the two fighting and wanted Shizuo to settle down and have some peace. And Izaya was the biggest obstacle to this. His cat purred and kneaded his lap while Ruri smiled at him.  
“Will you stop trying to kill me, Shizu, if I stop trying to kill you?”  
Shizuo cocked his head. “I’ll think about it.”  
“Do I still repulse you?” Izaya was deliberately affecting his tone and body language to be submissive. Shizuo was a control freak who wanted to feel like he was in charge.  
He stepped back and gripped his injured wrist to his chest, caressing it tenderly. He glanced away from Shizuo and sighed, frowning.  
“Wh-why do you care?”  
“Well, no one likes to feel repulsive.” Izaya glanced at Shizuo then quickly away.  
“You’re not this shy. Stop being fucking manipulative.”  
Izaya’s affectation dissipated. “You surprise me again, Shizu!”  
“Yeah, well I guess I know all of your tricks.” Shizuo straightened up in the chair, tugging at his pant legs. Izaya swallowed back a smile he knew would piss off the blond.  
“Not all of them.”  
Shizuo patted his pants for his phone. “Where’s my phone? When’s Celty getting back?”  
Izaya held up the phone. “Why, are you scared of what I’ll do to you?”  
Shizuo snatched for the phone. “Don’t tease me, flea.” But somehow that word felt inappropriate to say now.  
“They’ll be there overnight,” Izaya said with a sigh. He’d deleted all traces of the conversation with Kasuka. “You can go home, if you like. I’m still feeling a bit sluggish, and someone really should stay here. I can’t lock up if I leave, after all.”  
“I’m not leaving you here alone,” Shizuo said defiantly. “You already had her head; you might steal more from her.”  
“Such a loyal friend!” Izaya commented with a laugh. “I wish I had a friend like you.”  
“Hnn. Or a friend period.”  
“Touche.”  
They looked at one another, unsure of what to do. Shizuo, for one, had been titillated in all manners of the word, and it surprised him given his normally thick skin and skull. Izaya was tired, but he was excited and curious about this change in their understanding of one another.  
“Shizu, if I don’t try to kill you and you therefore don’t want to kill me, do you still want me to leave you alone?”  
“Dunno. Depends. If you aren’t leavin’ me alone, then what are you doing?”  
Izaya sat on the edge of the bed while Shizuo remained in the chair, the magazine still on the floor, torn and long forgotten.  
“What do you want me to do?”  
“Answering a question with a question ain’t an answer,” Shizuo denied. “Stop fucking with me, for one.”  
“But it’s a habit of mine,” Izaya pouted.  
“An annoying one, among others.”  
Izaya grabbed his aching jaw. “Well, you’re in luck: my jaw hurts. You wouldn’t happen to remember what Shinra dosed me with, would you?”  
Shizuo stood up and looked around the room. He picked up a clear IV bag; the other had drained completely into Izaya.  
“This, I think. Dunno the dosage or any of that, though.”  
Izaya glanced at it and grimaced. “Morphine. Heavy stuff. The kind of thing you don’t want to mess up the dose on.” He looked at Shizuo’s expectant face. “Go on; stick me.”  
Shizuo surprised Izaya yet again; his face flushed like he was embarrassed, or …  
Izaya laughed. “Shizu, did you think that was a euphemism?”  
“A what?” Shizuo was still flustered.  
“Oh, you oaf, you wouldn’t know that word, would you?” Izaya cradled his injured jaw. The faint metallic taste of blood still lingered in his mouth. “When I say, ‘stick me,’ I don’t mean with a knife or that,” he pointed to Shizuo’s lap, “I mean the needle for the drip. I want to go back to sleep and knock this pain out too.”  
Shizuo’s red face abruptly blanched. “I don’t like needles.”  
Izaya couldn’t help but laugh. Shizuo reddened again.  
“Why the hell’s that funny?”  
“Shizu, if anyone tried to jab a needle into you, it’d break off!”  
“Yeah, well, I don’t like the idea of jabbing it into you, or anyone else for that matter. Creeps me out.” Shizuo looked ashamed to admit this weakness, but it was oddly endearing. The strong man feared a tiny metal point.  
“Shizu, why the hell aren’t you scared of my knife or the numerous Saika blades you’ve come up against, for that matter?”  
“ ‘Cuz they only go so deep. A needle goes into you, inside the skin or a vein.” He lowered his eyes from Izaya. “I don’t like the idea of being penetrated.”  
Izaya had to bite his tongue to stop from laughing. He sensed that Shizuo was somehow oblivious to the implications of what he’d said. Shizuo was likely a virgin. He’d probably seriously hurt anyone he tried to be physically intimate with. If he was as passionate in lust as he was in anger, that was another issue for poor Shizu.  
“Well, I don’t mind it,” Izaya said, knowing Shizuo wouldn’t catch that either. “I’ll do it myself. You’d probably wreck my vein anyway.”  
Izaya laid back in the bed, holding his hand out for the IV bag. Shizuo hooked it up to the stand and shook his head. “I’ll do it. Maybe I’ll enjoy hurting you.”  
Izaya’s lips spread into a smile. “Maybe I will too.”  
Shizuo’s eyes widened, but he steeled himself and approached Izaya. He removed the cap from the needle and contemplated it deeply. Fluid swelled from the tip, gleaming in the din of the room.  
“Do my other arm,” Izaya requested. “The arm he stuck before is tender.”  
Shizuo’s shaking hands attempted to guide the needle towards Izaya’s unblemished left arm. Izaya, partially scared he’d be butchered and partially sympathetic, grabbed Shizuo’s hands to steady them.  
“Just find the vein and slide it in. It’ll take a little force to pierce the skin, but it’ll be like butter after. Go gently.”  
Shizuo didn’t flinch from Izaya’s warm, soothing grip on him. He grit his teeth and zeroed in on Izaya’s blue vein, easily visible in his alabaster skin. The tip hovered on the edge of the skin, then Shizuo pressed down gently.  
“Ah!” Izaya exclaimed. Shizuo panicked and paused.  
“Don’t stop – put it in all the way!”  
Shizuo slipped the needle into the vein and saw a swell of blood rush up into the syringe tip. He wasn’t sure if that was right or not, but he suddenly felt light-headed so he stepped away.  
Izaya fiddled with the implanted instrument and gestured to a roll of tape atop a platter of metal tools. “Grab that, will you? Then tear a strip off and tape the IV line to my arm.”  
Shizuo did exactly that, tearing and smoothing a strip of medical tape over the plastic tubing to keep it in place. He exhaled, abruptly agitated by Izaya’s calm expression.  
“The hell? That didn’t bother you? You laughin’ at me?”  
Izaya’s eyes closed and a smile brightened his wan face. “You fought one of your fears for me. I’m touched, Shizu.” His eyes opened. “Is there anything else Shizu fears?”  
“Plannin’ on using this to your advantage?”  
Izaya shook his head. “I’m just curious. I’m not going to try to kill you any more, remember?”  
“Hn. I’ll believe it when I see it. You’re just injured right now. You’ll be up to your old tricks in no time.”  
Izaya was, in a fashion, tricking Shizuo. But not maliciously. Shizuo, who was oblivious to medical jargon, had handed Izaya a saline drip. The “drug” that flowed through his veins was merely a hydrating solution. But Shizuo didn’t know this.  
“Ah, I’m feeling better already,” Izaya demurred. “Thank you for helping, Shizu. Inside the lion beats the heart of a cub.”  
“What kinda proverby shit is that? Sounds like one of Simon’s ramblings.” Shizuo sat down and looked at Izaya, undoing his bow tie. That revealed he was feeling more at ease. He also placed his glasses on the medical tray, and Izaya couldn’t remember if he’d seen him without them on since high school.  
“I’m just saying that you have a gentle heart. It’s easy to see when you’re not actively trying to kill me. This is the side that Kasuka must see.”  
“Don’t fuck with my brother,” Shizuo cautioned, but he didn’t tense. "I'm not sure I want to drag anyone else into this but you and me.”  
“Hm? How so?”  
“You’re sayin’ you want me to pay attention to you, but you want me to be at peace. A kitten, or whatever. Now I gotta figure out what that means, and what I want.”  
Shizuo shoved his hands in his pockets. He averted his gaze from Izaya, who knew this was a sign of shyness.  
“Oh, Shizu, did you think I was implying we should date?”  
Shizuo’s gaze snapped back up and locked with Izaya’s. “What?! I can think of a million things I’d rather do than that!”  
Izaya chuckled. “Am I so abhorrent? You never dated any girls in high school.”  
“How would you know-? Forget it. You probably know everything about me, at least on the outside.” Shizuo reached for his pack of cigarettes. “Do you care?”  
“I’d rather you not do it in here. I hate the smell of cigarettes as much as you hate my cologne.” Izaya decided to toy with Shizuo some more. “You can go do it outside if you want, but first help me with this.”  
He tugged on his shirt gingerly. Shizuo eyed this gesture, tilting his head like a curious dog.  
“Huh? What you want me to do with that?”  
“Take it off. I’m hot.”  
Shizuo sat up straight in his seat. “But you were cold earlier! You kept kicking off the damn blanket I brought you!”  
“Oh, did I? I don’t remember any of that.” Izaya wiped his brow with belabored effort. “Grab that IV bag for me, if you would, so I can slip this off over my arm without dislocating the needle.”  
“I swear, if this is some kinda long con, you’re deader than dead,” Shizuo said with a grizzled grunt, standing and removing the saline bag for Izaya.  
Izaya slowly curled his shirt up over his chest, watching Shizuo’s face as he did. When he thought Izaya was looking he glanced away disinterestedly, but when Izaya covered his face with the somewhat sheer shirt, he caught Shizuo looking over. Behind the silken material, Izaya smiled.  
When he pulled the shirt down towards his pierced arm, he waited for Shizuo to guide the drip down through it. Shizuo did so gingerly, eyeing the needle in Izaya’s arm warily.  
Rather than keep his eyes on this, Shizuo’s gaze wandered to Izaya’s bare torso. He was surprised to see bruises and blemishes on the ivory flesh.  
“That all my doing?” he asked, feeling guilty for the first time ever in relation to inflicting injury to Izaya.  
Izaya’s slender hands ran along his bare flesh and the bruises in various stages of healing, some purple, some yellow. “You leave your mark on me. Every time I take a shower or a bath, or even change, I’m reminded of you and that supernatural strength of yours. Yet I doubt you even have a scar.”  
Shizuo looked down at himself, pondering. “No. Not really.”  
To throw him off, Izaya randomly said, “Your eyes are quite stunning when they’re not hidden behind purple lenses and staring fire into my soul.”  
“Shut up!” Shizuo replied. This was his go-to response when he didn’t know what else to say.  
“Tsk. Can’t even take a compliment.” Izaya stretched back, glancing down at the waistband of his pants and the peep of boxers that stretched above it. “Are you that insecure that you can’t even believe it when someone says something nice about you?”  
“When it’s you, I don’t believe any of it.”  
“I can understand that,” Izaya agreed. “For you and I, actions speak louder and ring truer.”  
Shizuo’s fingers idly wandered to the corner of one eye, and Izaya knew his words had taken root, despite Shizuo’s protests. “Why don’t you go have that cigarette, Shizu? I’ll doze off here shortly.”  
Shizuo was desperately craving a cigarette to remind himself this was reality. He felt as though he was living in one of the alternate realities discussed in Celty’s magazine.  
“Yeah. I’ll do that.”  
He wandered out, almost dazed, and Izaya thought to himself that he was actually enjoying Shizuo. He was still playing with him, and his reactions were unpredictable as ever, but Izaya had come to realize that at Shizuo’s core was just an insecure kid who had little experience with relationships.  
And all of my experience was gained by living vicariously through other people’s relationships. The complex trio of Mikado, Masaomi, and Anri, all of whom love one another equally … Seiji and Mika, a completely parasitic love. Celty and Shinra, an obsessive love so forceful the dullahan tolerated it. Kadota and his lackeys, a posse of unlikely friends who’re thicker than blood …  
And I have no one. Even my sisters think I’m strange, and they grate on my every nerve. I love them but don’t want to be close to them. Do I long to be close to anyone? To touch them, to connect with them?  
Maybe.  
I’m human, after all.  
Just like Shizu.  
If I were witnessing this, I’d say we’re perfect for each other: two people who’re lonely and craving a connection. Most people desire this. The difference is, Shizu and I can’t reach out like normal people.  
But here we are, alone in a foreign apartment overnight, practically strangers but not totally. What to do?  
Izaya sighed and said to himself, “I love humans.”  
***  
When Shizuo returned, Izaya had fallen asleep again. Shizuo looked at him intently and for a long time, contemplating the feelings going through him more than the thoughts.  
Confused, curious, pissed off, anxious.  
He wanted to know what the hell was going to happen before Celty and Shinra returned. Would he be able to keep his promise to her?  
He decided to text his brother.  
[Kasuka, you free?]  
It wasn’t long before Kasuka, notorious for arriving to meetings and film shoots early, replied.  
[Did you talk to him?]  
Shizuo stared at that text and blinked for a long time. He grimaced.  
[Huh? Talk to who?]  
What he read next nearly made him crumple his phone into thousands of tiny, plastic pieces.  
[1/2 Izaya. You said he’d confessed what he realized were his true feelings, right? And that you discovered all of your hatred towards him was because you were attracted to him and confused by it. 2/2 Shizuo, did you already block out this traumatic memory?]  
“Iiiiiizaaayaaaa!!!!” Shizuo yelled at the top of his lungs, discarding the phone onto the couch before he stalked into the room.  
It flashed. The message read: [I expect you’ll resolve everything by the time you read this, Brother. Don’t be mad at Izaya. I feel for once in his life, he’s being honest. For better or for worse. Love you.]  
As if his brother knew him better than anyone. Which he did. But Kasuka was the type of person who reacted rather than engage. A listener.  
Izaya was still sleeping with his back to Shizuo when he entered the doorway. Shizuo felt so hot he could imagine steam coming off of his skin. He wished his eyes were lasers that could burn that tiny, weak body into ash.  
“What the HELL did you write my brother?! And who the hell else are you texting this crap to?!”  
Izaya whistled gently in reply.  
Shizuo turned him over so he could slap him awake, but his serene countenance had an oddly calming effect on Shizuo. Shizuo also noted, with mixed feelings, that Izaya had tugged his pants off in the time Shizuo’d been gone smoking and watching a cooking show on TV.  
So he wears boxer-briefs. Hn. Too tight.  
Damn. What am I thinking? Gotta slap him and wake him up. Bastard’s telling my brother lies in MY perspective. What the hell’s HE thinking?  
Shizuo lifted a hand to propel into Izaya’s sleeping, bruised face, but a strange, sudden swell of guilt stopped him mere centimeters from Izaya’s flesh. Izaya murmured and tickled Shizuo’s hand with his breath.  
What the hell am I doing trying to beat on a pipsqueak like him? An injured pipsqueak. An injured, fucked up, probably lonely like me pipsqueak. Hell, what if he’s actually being honest for once? If he means all this shit …  
Then what DOES it mean?  
“Mm, Shizu …”  
This lascivious moan startled Shizuo and he retreated like Izaya was a swelling fire. In a way, he was.  
Izaya’s hand, which was curled up in front of his chest, moved to touch it. Shizuo watched it expectantly as it trailed down to a lean but undefined stomach. Where it went after made Shizuo’s eyes widen, but he was unable to look away.  
Pfft, I do that too. No big deal.  
But it’s weird he does it. Means he’s normal after all. As normal as he can be, anyway.  
Hell, he’s probably a virgin too. That he does it at all … that’s the biggest surprise. Maybe he does … nah.  
And if he did?  
Disgusting.  
Or so he tried to tell himself. His body felt an envious twinge as if living vicariously through Izaya’s unconscious wanderings. Then Shizuo remembered the utterance just before this –  
My name. Jesus. He’s fucking touching himself and dreaming about me. I was just trying to piss him off, but maybe I was onto something.  
Shizuo had been attracted to women before. He wasn’t as dense as everyone seemed to think (though he did have a terrible memory), and he realized Varona’s fascination with him was nearly reaching the heights of Izaya’s supposed hatred for him. But she’d started out trying to kill him, and so had Akane.  
Does everyone that has a crush on me want to kill me first? Shit.  
Varona was his protege. He respected her. She’d saved his life and stopped him from killing Izaya. She’d preserved his humanity. She, like Tom and Celty, was his friend.  
And yes, she regarded him as such. But her feelings were somewhat like a little girl with a first crush, almost like Akane, and Shizuo wasn’t the sort of person to take advantage of an emotionally innocent girl. He wanted to be her friend and guide her, and hell, if she wanted to fight him one day, he’d let her – and he wouldn’t take it easy on her.  
I almost killed Izaya, too. Varona stopped me. Simon stopped her. Celty saved him. Hell, everyone worked together to break us up. And he left a cripple. Like he said, I left my mark on him.  
I was relieved he didn’t die. For Varona’s sake. But also … if he was away from me, I didn’t care for him to die. His death meant nothing to me. I just wanted the damn pest outta my hair.  
But he came back, after all these years. I’d never forgotten. Got too used to looking over my shoulder and assuming someone was gonna stab me, shoot me, or arrest me. He was gone, but not from my mind. Thought I’d be happy to forget. And I didn’t relax any.  
In a way, I was glad he came back. Gave me an excuse for my anger. But everyone said he was really scared of me – that I messed him up bad. So why did he come back?  
Because this, us, wouldn’t end until one of us was dead.  
But he didn’t seem to think so. He started to wise up to something, and whatever that girl yelled at him that day … it triggered something in that flea brain of his.  
The conflict at the heart of our relationship, for which the resolution is death … or is it?  
“How the hell is it you’re having this kind of a dream about me and not a nightmare?” Shizuo mused, not caring if Izaya heard or not.  
He sat down and looked at Izaya’s body, thinking of how badly he’d damaged it. He did this to numerous people on a daily basis. He hadn’t cared that he’d done it, then – Izaya had been as much of a monster to him as Shizuo was to Izaya. But hearing of his struggles away from Ikebukuro, his journey to recovery, and the fear he had of Shizuo … something stronger than that fear had compelled him to come back.  
“I’m sorry,” he said, “for breaking all of those bones. For completely losing my shit.” He placed his head in his hands. “But shit, you made it so hard. You provoked me to kill you. What the hell were you thinking? Did you think I was that inhuman?”  
While Shizuo’s eyes were hidden in his hands, Izaya’s opened. This was a moment of clarity for Shizuo, and in a way, Izaya himself. Echoes of the trauma he’d suffered from that fateful fight came back to him.  
Why had he come back? To the thing he feared?  
To the thing he … the person he feared.  
The person he was obsessed with.  
Envied.  
Shizuo the human had quickly become a person in Izaya’s mind. Like pieces of a puzzle connecting, it was all starting to make sense.  
He removed his hand from his waistband and used it to remove the IV. He sat up, mirroring Shizuo.  
“I wanted to kill you because I thought killing a monster would make me more human.”  
Shizuo lowered his hands and stared at Izaya, stunned.  
“But what made me feel human after all was the sting of defeat, and the fear and pain any thought of you would conjure. In my mind, the conflict was over. When I returned, I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t know why, other than that Ikebukuro was my home and you were … you were my Shizuo. But as soon as you saw me, you were convinced we had to pick up where we left off, so I continued the ruse. When Karisawa said that to me … I thought, well, maybe it’d be interesting to try a different tactic. To make you drop your guard. I wondered what would happen if we were to interact less aggressively. What would really make me human is to connect with you rather than be envious of you.”  
Shizuo absorbed all of this for a rather long time. For the first time ever, even despite their earlier flirtations with bonding, he felt that Izaya was opening up. And hell, it made sense.  
“Are you done fucking with me?” Shizuo asked him, lowering his hands to his chin. He leaned his elbows on his knees, which jittered anxiously.  
Izaya tilted his head. “Well, that depends. Purposefully trying to piss you off and get you killed or arrested? Yes. Trying, in my way, to connect with you? No. if you can tolerate that.”  
“Tssh.” Shizuo smiled, visibly surprising Izaya. “I’m no better than you are. I blew up at you before you even had the chance to talk to me in high school.”  
“That was over ten years ago.” Izaya smiled fondly. “I’d like to think we’ve both grown since then. Even in the last 5 years.”  
He inhaled deeply before saying something Shizuo never thought he’d hear.  
“I’m sorry, too. I can’t make any promises, but all of my attempts to engage you were completely misguided.” He waited a beat before his solemn expression lightened. “And I’m sorry for messaging your brother in your place.”  
This made a vein in Shizuo’s temple twitch, but he managed to calm himself. This was, indeed, growth.  
“Yeah, well now you’ve got him thinking we’re in love or some shit. Good thing he’s not a blabbermouth.”  
“That girl, the Russian,” Izaya said abruptly. Shizuo dropped his hands from his chin and placed them on his knees. “She loves you, whether you and she know it or not.”  
“I kinda figured,” Shizuo agreed. Izaya’s brows quirked, but his lips remained passive. “But I won’t take advantage of a girl who hasn’t become a woman yet.”  
“Did you ever let anyone love you?”  
Shizuo carefully considered the way Izaya had worded this. He didn’t think of love as being allowed or accepted, but he guessed Celty and Shinra were a good example of this. Shinra had thrown proclamations of love at Celty until she accepted them and eventually returned them.  
“I guess. But I never gave it back.”  
“Lucky anyone loved you.” Izaya spoke again quickly before Shizuo could perceive this as an insult. “I mean, no one loves me.”  
“No one knows you. You always have to have the leg up. People don’t like being analyzed like animals at a zoo.”  
“This conflict,” Izaya brought up, uncomfortable with the subject Shizuo had started discussing, “how do you propose we end it? At least in your eyes?”  
Shizuo shrugged. “This worked. Talking. Just leave me alone, I guess.”  
This stung Izaya but he tried not to show it. The way his fingers curled up in the sheet of the bed betrayed him. “I don’t know how to. It’s habit to want to know what you’re doing.”  
“All that shit earlier,” Shizuo glanced at Izaya’s curled hands and thought of what he’d seen one do earlier, “touching yourself, and me, what was that?”  
Izaya shrugged. “Trying to get a rise out of you. I’ll stop.”  
“It’s childish.” But Shizuo stood up and walked over to Izaya. He towered over the seated man, who even standing was 5 inches shorter than Shizuo. “You trying to piss me off or connect with me in your weird way?”  
Izaya cradled his hands in his lap. “I just like seeing what you’ll do.” He shivered.  
Shizuo leaned over him and wrapped the fluffy blanket around his shoulders. “You want me to do something, just tell me.”  
“What?” Izaya was constantly being surprised by Shizuo today. And not in a bad way.  
Shizuo tilted his head up by the chin. “I really did a number on your jaw.” He bent down. “When we were little, my mom used to do this to make it feel better.”  
He then did something Izaya would have thought completely uncharacteristic for Shizuo: he leaned in and pressed a feather-light kiss to the bruise on the corner of Izaya’s mouth.  
Izaya could feel himself redden, and what was worse was the shudder that ran from the place where Shizuo had kissed down to his toes.  
When was the last time someone kissed him? Shizuo wondered. Strangely, he found the flush on Izaya’s face endearing. Even he could have human reactions to things.  
“If Shizu could do that to every bruise he left on my body, I’d forgive him.”  
Izaya did something that confused every cell in Shizuo’s body: he gently nibbled at the corner of the lip Shizuo had so tenderly kissed.  
That vulnerable expression, that pleading tone … some part of me’s getting off on Izaya submitting to me.  
Because it’s honest. Hell, he probably doesn’t know what’s going on either.  
But Izaya had just learned to make his manipulations more subtle. His strengths were in observation and adaptation.  
“You really want me to?”  
Izaya pointed to his mouth. “You hurt the inside, too.”  
The delicate man who was wrapped in a blanket controlled every move Shizuo would then make. All it took was a slender finger and a dulcet tone.  
What the hell am I doing? I’m not into men.  
But a perverse part of him entertained the idea of Izaya’s slender body in his hands and under his lips, reacting to his every movement. To exert control over the information broker under the guise of atonement wasn’t lost even on Shizuo.  
Nor was the idea of offering up control to gain it for Izaya.  
In the end, all the two wanted from one another was to have the other in the palm of their hand. To be the most important, intense presence in their life.  
For Izaya, the thought of continuing to discover and explore Shizuo’s psyche thrilled him.  
For Shizuo, the thought of completely removing control from Izaya excited him. He also knew nothing he could do would overwhelm the information broker, who’d already tolerated so much of Shizuo’s temper and indeed learned to simultaneously engage and avoid it.  
Their collision, as before, was inevitable.  
When Shizuo soothed the wound inside Izaya’s mouth, he created a balm that soothed their relationship itself. At least the volatile aspect of it. That history was destroyed and wouldn’t be revisited; instead, the white-out had been applied and new ink started to form with Izaya’s skin as the parchment and Shizuo’s lips and hands as the ink.  
As this new story was being written, the two were too lost in one another to hear the hurried steps in the hall. A key entered the lock just as a hand entered a tangle of hair.  
It turned and clicked as a moan escaped through a smile.  
Shinra and Celty burst into the apartment expecting to see it in shambles, and perhaps a body or two. They’d been released from Shingen’s agreement with Shiki – which had been orchestrated in an instant by Izaya upon ‘passing out’ on the street.  
In truth, Izaya had wanted to be left alone with Shizuo. He had a safety net set up in case this went south – which it had, but not in the way Shiki would have been informed of.  
Shinra shut the door and looked around expectantly. “Hey, Celty, everything looks okay …”  
Celty entered the living room and looked around for signs of a crime, like a forensic investigator. She lifted up the phone that Shizuo had tossed to the couch. Upon reading Kasuka’s messages, she thrust it into Shinra’s face along with her own PDA. Shinra struggled to read between the two.  
[What IS all of this? Is it a joke? Feelings? A confession? Is it April Fool’s Day? Have I gone crazy and forgotten the date?]  
“Celty, it’s not April Fool’s day,” Shinra assured her, “or the prank would’ve gone to much more explicit territory.”  
He boldly marched ahead of her. “In the event that it has, for better or for worse, I’ll take point.”  
Celty clung to both phones and walked behind him cautiously. She could hear some kind of moaning or groaning.  
She hurriedly typed and tapped Shinra’s shoulder.  
[Careful! Do you hear that? Either one of them’s in there dying or it’s their ghost! Imagine being haunted by Izaya for a lifetime. Shinra, we’ll have to MOVE!]  
“Relax, Celty!” Shinra waved his hand to ease her. But he heard the noises too. Celty felt him tense and squealed internally in fear and anticipation.  
Shinra was unsure of whether or not he should call out to Shizuo. He didn’t want to aggravate what was an already precarious situation. He also had a morbid curiosity of what he’d see upon entering silently.  
When he did, he regretted this tendency of his which he’d inherited from his father.  
Stunned in place, Celty typed and thrust the PDA into his face.  
[What is it? What do you see? Are they in there? Are they … alive? Floating?]  
Shinra turned and spun her about in a valiant attempt to shield her fragile psyche. “If you look, you won’t be able to forget what you see.”  
But Celty’s own morbid curiosity bested Shinra’s chivalrous and completely accurate sentiment.  
She pushed around him. Luckily for Shizuo and Izaya, her scream was silent.  
“In my operating room, of all places …” Shinra muttered, wondering whether or not to break the two up. Even in this sort of situation, he had the feeling interfering in an exchange between Shizuo and Izaya was completely unappreciated by both of them and could result in physical damage.  
Shinra wandered over to the couch and turned on the TV. It was his passive aggressive way of alerting them to his and Celty’s presence. It was also an attempt to distract his aching mind.  
Celty had wrapped the two in a shadowy sphere. Her fingers were racing across the keypad of her PDA.  
[Anri, I’ve gone to another reality! Or maybe even hell itself! It’s a terrible place, where mortal enemies suddenly become lovers and ruin a perfectly good operating table! If I actually saw with my eyes, I’d so be washing them right now!!!]  
While Anri texted back, [Is everything okay, Celty? Do you need me to come over?] Shinra discovered the TV wasn’t helping to erase the image so recently burned into his brain. He reached for a newspaper he’d held onto from several years ago, after Celty had reunited with her head.  
At the top was the headline: “This is a story of twisted love.”  
And so Anri, Mikado and Masaomi joined Celty in witnessing this twisted love in its most potent and literal form, once the shadow had dissipated.  
Then the news reached Kadota and his gang, and by the time Karisawa eagerly scrambled into the room to witness what she’d wrought, the whole of Ikebukuro was chattering about the town’s cutest couple.  
This was thanks to Kasuka Heiwajima. That gossip.  
(When asked, Izaya would claim Shizuo had given him an overdose of morphine in order to take advantage of him. This led to a rather stern punishment intended to break Izaya of his habit of lying. But Izaya – and Shizuo – enjoyed it.)


End file.
